CHAPTER 4
Mackenzie
“Remember that little diner we went to in Pennsylvania? You were what, eleven?” my dad asks, leaning back in his chair and sipping his after-dinner coffee.
“Twelve,” I reply with a smile as my dad returns it, and his eyes soften with the memory. “It was called Mom’s Open Kitchen and they had—”
“The best french fries in the world!” my dad finishes, and we both laugh.
I’m not even going to lie; dinner was the most uncomfortable moment so far on this trip. The food was amazing, sitting on the upper deck watching the sun set over the ocean as we slowly made our way to St. John was a beautiful experience, but the company left a lot to be desired. Allyson and Arianna complained about every dish that was served and sent it back to the kitchen, bitched at the crew when they weren’t fast enough, and never once thanked them for anything. It was embarrassing and I lost count of how many times I apologized for their behavior to the crew, under my breath so the two hellions wouldn’t hear and have one more thing to bitch about.
Even more embarrassing was the fact that Declan stood at the small bar a few feet away from our table and had to listen to this shit all night long. And deal with their nonsense as well since, according to them, every drink he made tasted like the bottom of a shoe. I don’t know why it bothers me so much more to have him witness my family’s behavior. I don’t even know the guy. I shouldn’t care what he thinks of me or the people I’m related to by marriage. Having one of the hottest guys I’ve ever laid eyes on see how they act somehow makes it a thousand times more humiliating, and makes me hope he’s not thinking I’m anything like them. Every time one of them screeched out another complaint or order, my eyes would automatically glance in his direction, hoping he hadn’t heard it, and I’d catch him looking at me. It made my heart beat faster and my palms sweat and my skin heat up in a way the hot tropical sun could never do. It made me forget, for just a moment, that I was on a vacation with two people I couldn’t stand, on a yacht we couldn’t afford to charter, with a father who barely noticed me since these women came into his life and turned it upside down.
At least with a full belly and the two women in question busy taking selfies at the end of the table, he seemed to be able to relax for a few minutes and I could easily pretend Allyson and Arianna weren’t even there and it was just the two of us. Like it used to be.
“What was the name of the place that had a giant stuffed grizzly bear and you could sit on its lap and take a picture?” dad asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table and hold his coffee cup between his two hands.
“That was—”
“BORING!” Allyson shouts, cutting me off as she gets up from the table and walks down to stand behind my father, draping her arms around his shoulders. “God, you two and your stupid, old stories. How many times do we have to hear them? They’re putting me to sleep.”
Brooke reaches over from her chair next to me, grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. With my free hand, I snatch the full glass of wine in front of me and chug it until it’s gone, slamming it back down on the table a little roughly.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” my dad apologizes to Allyson, setting his cup down on the table and reaching up to pat her arm.
Our trip down memory lane is quickly forgotten as he looks up at her with a beaming smile, and I try not to throw up in my mouth when she tells him she’s ready for bed, and that she bought some new lingerie for him to unwrap.
Dad pushes back from the table and gives Brooke, Arianna, and myself a kiss on the cheek, bidding us goodnight before he grabs Allyson’s hand and pulls her through the sliding glass doors.
“Well, that was enough to make all that delicious food we ate come right back up,” Brooke mutters, letting go of my hand to take her own huge drink of wine.
“Do my boobs look perky enough? I was thinking of getting them lifted.” Arianna announces at the other end of the table to no one in particular, her hands cupping the boobs in question that my father already paid a hefty price to get enlarged two months ago.
“Never mind. THAT’S enough to make me vomit,” Brooke adds with a grimace.
We both watch in silent disgust as Arianna pushes her boobs together and up, before Brooke shakes her head and turns away to look at me.
“You really need to have a heart-to-heart with your father. I thought this vacation would be good for you and a way to relax from all the stress, but I can still see it all over your face,” she informs me. “And I’ve seen you checking emails on your phone a hundred times since we boarded this ship. I thought we agreed when we got to St. Thomas that you would forget about work.”
I sigh, twisting my empty wine glass around by the stem.
“I can’t just forget about it, Brooke. I’ve got accountants and lawyers asking me a hundred different questions all day long. Our problems aren’t going away just because I’m out of town.”
“Do you even hear yourself?” she asks with a raise of her eyebrows. “Our problems. They aren’t our problems, they’re your father’s problems. That he’s chosen to ignore. You can’t clean up all his messes, Mackenzie. You need to live your own life and let him deal with the consequences of his mistakes.”
I open my mouth to argue and she holds her hand up to silence me.
“I know; I get it. It was just the two of you for a really long time and you’re not the kind of person who can sit back and watch her father fail,” she continues. “But, hon, you can’t go down with him. You gave up everything for him after college when he begged you not to move away, and you’re still doing it. You’re still sacrificing your happiness for him. You’ve been working yourself to the bone for six months, ever since the first subpoena was delivered to his office. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, you take work home every night and you forgot how to live. I can’t sit back and watch you do this to yourself anymore. You need to sit him down and talk to him, or I will.”